


All That Matters

by Half_Of_A_Lie



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Ash is super Pansexual, Bisexual Larry, Diane is still alive, F/F, F/M, Gay Sal Fisher, He still wears a prosthetic, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Sal was still attacked by a dog/demon/whatever, The one where they aren't brothers, but Larry is bi, but has a gf so no worries, but still, happy gay boys, possible future smut, so Henry and Lisa don't get married, which is kinda sad bc they're cute together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_Of_A_Lie/pseuds/Half_Of_A_Lie
Summary: For TeaHoneyAndLemon. I absolutely adore your writing so far, and can't wait to see what you come up with in the future. This is just something I threw together at midnight because I couldn't sleep. So it's guaranteed to be awful.





	All That Matters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeaHoneyAndLemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHoneyAndLemon/gifts).



Sal huffed at his alarm clock, which blared annoyingly in his ear as he slowly awoke to greet the day. 

 

Not really caring about his general appearance, he grabbed the first clothes he found on the floor, shoving his legs into the skinny tubes that were his red jeans and throwing on a black sweater with a mysterious stain on it. 

 

It wasn't so mysterious, though. Sal knew what it was. Guac from taco night with Lisa and Larry had gotten a bit out of hand. Needless to say he'd had to wash his clothes multiple times - using up many of his precious quarters he was saving up - and even then they weren't the same. Sal had just beaten Larry in several games of Mario Kart. Needless to say, he wasn't pleased, and the taller male had confessed his frustration by later flinging food at the blue-haired boy at dinner. 

 

He remembered Lisa scolding Larry and urging Sal to quickly rush to the washing machine and throw his sweater into it. So he did, scraping the guac and taco shell remnants into the sink and padding out into the hall, passed the elevator, to where the machine lay. 

 

He also remembered how when he peeled off said sweater to toss it away, and was confronted with Larry, who's beet red face both excited and confused him. 

 

Larry had held up a shirt in Sal's general direction before he quickly strode away, back into the apartment he and his mom lived in. 

 

Since that night, a week ago, Larry had been extremely awkward around Sal, and hadn't really talked to him much. And it was causing Sal a lot of anxiety. 

 

Thankfully, Sal's mom had come to the rescue and soothed his frayed nerves, claiming all the boy needed was time and that eventually he'd come around. 

 

A week in, and Sal was still waiting for that time. 

 

He still stayed up late nights that faded into early mornings while he waited for someone - namely his best friend - to pick up the other line of the walkie talkie and just say something. Anything. Even if it was to claim how disgusted he was with Sal. 

 

Sal craved hearing his voice again. Husky and deep, with a slight rolling accent he got from his mother. 

 

Just thinking about Larry's voice made a shudder run down the bluenette's spine. 

 

Whether it was out of anticipation or something more was anybody's guess. 

 

Sal snagged his phone from his nightstand, shoving it and his charger into his off the shoulder school bag, along with a few textbooks and homework due the following night. 

 

Trekking out to the living room, he dropped his bag onto the couch, affectionately patting Gizmo's head before he headed into the bathroom to prepare for the day. 

 

First, he brushed his teeth. Combed the snarls out of his usually curly hair and forced it to lay flat. Well, as flat as it could. Ash often joked to Sal that nothing about him was straight, not even his hair. 

 

Next came the cleaning of his glass eye, which after he washed several times,  he popped into place. Blinked several times to make sure it was positioned correctly. 

 

Then, his mask. The prosthetic given to him some years ago by some doctor he couldn't remember the name nor face of. 

 

At first, it was uncomfortable. But it was a part of him now. 

 

As he clipped the mask into place, he felt a strange sort of calm wash over him. A bit of serenity he couldn't have when his scarred reflection was staring back at him. 

 

He finished up his bathroom trip with a quick toilet break, a furious hand washing, and a five and a half minute search for the hand towel Gizmo had hidden underneath the tub. By the time he found it, his hands were dry. But he hung the pathetic piece of green fabric up anyways and carried on with his day, pushing open the door into the living room. 

 

Gizmo bumped against his legs as Sal attempted to walk to the fridge, meowing insistently. 

  
  
"What, Giz? I cleaned your litter yesterday. And refilled your bowl last night."

 

The cat peered up at him, slightly narrowed his eyes, and headbutted Sal's knees, somewhat pushing him back towards his room. 

 

"What're you- Giz, quit that! Did you get something stuck under my dresser again? I told you to stop knocking your toys under there."  
  
  


Gizmo continued to pester Sal until the blue haired boy was halfway to his room, which is when he heard the crackle of static and a muffled voice. Assuming it was Larry attempting to contact him, Sal all but dashed into his room and picked the walkie up off of his bed, waiting a few moments to see if he was really being contacted, or if it was just an accident. 

 

Sure enough, Larry's voice rang through the connection a few seconds later, making Sal's heart squeeze in his chest. 

 

"Sal? Can we talk? It's important." The male's voice was shaky, which was generally something that didn't happen with Larry. He wasn't one to openly spew his emotions. 

 

Sal took another few moments to think. Process. Why was Larry contacting him at seven in the morning on a Tuesday? 

 

He supposed he would find out. 

 

He pressed the button on the side of the walkie talkie, and opened his mouth to reply. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeahhh, there we are. First chapter done. In like.. an hour. I'm very tired. 
> 
> Also, yay for cliffhangers. It gives me something to grab onto for the next chapter.


End file.
